


around my heart and in my home

by e_stheticall_y



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Harry, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Harry Styles Smokes, Liam Payne & Harry Styles are Brothers, M/M, Nervous Harry, Producer Louis Tomlinson, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Supportive Louis Tomlinson, Top Louis Tomlinson, Unemployed Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:29:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22842478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_stheticall_y/pseuds/e_stheticall_y
Summary: “Niall!” Harry yelled his best friend’s name too many times a day.“Aw, lighten up a bit, H!” Niall said, turning them over so that Harry was the one pinned underneath. Niall took the blunt from his lips and pressed it between Harry’s, having him take a hit. “This weed not working or something?”Harry breathed his lungful right into Niall’s face as Niall held the joint between two fingers. He wondered if his eyes were at all red, because he did feel quite high, but there was still too much for him to think about to even try to calm himself down. “Nah, it’s working. I’m just stressing out right now. Louis doesn’t belong in this shit hole.”“If he’s anything like you’ve been saying he is, this shit hole won’t matter to him, Harry,” Niall said in a very final tone, urging Harry to take another puff. He finished his statement with a firm pinch to Harry’s nipple, and Harry huffed the thick smoke into Niall’s face.[Harry is ashamed to share his sad living conditions with Louis; Louis is a producer with power and money, who just wants to support his boyfriend. Dinner is shared, first impressions are made, and love is declared.}
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 91





	around my heart and in my home

**Author's Note:**

> i have so many fics and ideas in my drafts and this is the first one i've actually polished up enough to feel good about posting. enjoy :)
> 
> also, feedback is always appreciated!! let me know what you think!

“Harry, get the fuck out of my way,” Niall grumbled, kicking at Harry’s ass from where he was slouched on their couch.

“Fuck off,” Harry muttered out of half of his mouth, since he was holding his joint with the other side of his lips. He gathered the various empty chip bags and full ashtray from the TV stand and tucked one of Niall’s Playboy magazines under his arm. When Niall threw a handful of popcorn at his back, Harry straightened up with a roll of his eyes and made the couple steps to the kitchen.

He tossed out the garbage that was in his hands and chucked the magazine into Niall’s room.

“Niall, pick up that damn popcorn!” Harry yelled, holding his blunt between his fingers and opening the fridge. “And what the fuck is this?”

He could hear rustling in the other room, and then Niall was walking in, scratching his crotch and stuffing his mouth with the handful of popcorn that he should have just gathered up off of the floor. “What’s what?”

“Yesterday was your day for groceries, Niall,” Harry groaned, gesturing at the open fridge. “Grocery money isn’t for booze, you idiot!”

Niall shrugged, licking the butter from his fingers. “Stocked up on ramen, so don’t worry. Got a deal, too, a buck twelve for a pack of fifteen!”

“Niall!”

Niall shrugged again and turned around, walking back into the living room. Harry watched him flop onto his back on the couch and turn up the TV. Harry took a desperate drag from his joint, letting the fridge swing shut.

The door banged open and Harry peered out of the kitchen doorway to watch Liam come in with two plastic grocery bags.

“Your rich boyfriend’s coming over today,” Liam called out, kicking off his shoes. “Aren’t you freaking out?”

“I’m going fucking crazy, Li, ‘s why I’m smoking,” Harry said, popping the joint between his lips and taking one of the bags from his brother. “What’s this?”

“Got up this morning and saw the fridge,” Liam said, rolling his eyes, and there was no need for him to elaborate. “Went out and got some real food. Louis’ here for supper, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry said around the blunt, sorting through the bag and starting to put things away in their cramped kitchen storage space. “Thanks, Liam. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it, bro,” Liam said, patting Harry’s back, before he started putting away the groceries as well.

The rest of Harry’s morning was spent trying his best to clean up their shitty apartment in his stoned state. The thing was, their rent was extremely cheap, and the entire building looked the part. Their door was all chipped paint and creaking hinges. Where there was carpet, it was utterly stained, and it wasn’t entirely Harry’s clumsiness or Niall’s carelessness to blame for that. Their couch was a lumpy thing that Niall had found on the side of the road, and it still smelled even though Harry regularly dosed it in Febreeze. Their walls were all covered with ugly wallpaper, and the ceiling in the corner of the living room was threatening to crack.

None of the boys were particularly clean or tidy, so the entire apartment was always a mess. Harry wasn’t typically ashamed of it, but when he knew what Louis had, he hated his living space. Louis’ house was beautiful. It was a cute, modern bungalow in a nice neighborhood with a pool and a front yard, and Harry was jealous and ashamed. He was terrified that Louis would hate his apartment.

Harry and Louis really couldn’t be more different if they tried. At 20 years old, Harry was basically unemployed, living with his brother and his best friend, taking whatever little job he could get for cash and smoking all the time. Louis, on the other hand, was a successful producer at 24 years old. He’d made a decent name for himself, and decent money as well. Harry was still surprised that Louis wasn’t bored of him. His life was nothing like Louis’ high-profile, fast-paced one.

Harry passed by the couch, picking up random discarded clothing. There were jeans under the coffee table, a pair of boxers behind the couch, and a bra (a bra?) by the lamp. Harry squinted at the lacy thing in the haze of a breath of weed smoke. That was undoubtedly left behind by one of Niall’s hookups.

As he walked by Niall, who was lounging on the stained old cushions, he plucked the joint from his own lips and left it between Niall’s.

“You stink, Horan. Clean yourself up.”

“You planning on hosting in your underwear, Styles?” Niall asked, snapping the waistband of Harry’s tight black briefs, the only article of clothing that he was currently wearing. “Louis won’t even look at the apartment with you looking like that.”

“Shut up,” Harry grumbled, rolling Niall right off of the couch with a shove. Niall cackled and sent Harry down with him by yanking at his leg, and Harry tumbled on top of him.

“Niall!” Harry yelled his best friend’s name too many times a day.

“Aw, lighten up a bit, H!” Niall said, turning them over so that Harry was the one pinned underneath. Niall took the blunt from his lips and pressed it between Harry’s, having him take a hit. “This weed not working or something?”

Harry breathed his lungful right into Niall’s face as Niall held the joint between two fingers. He wondered if his eyes were at all red, because he did feel quite high, but there was still too much for him to think about to even try to calm himself down. “Nah, it’s working. I’m just stressing out right now. Louis doesn’t belong in this shit hole.”

“If he’s anything like you’ve been saying he is, this shit hole won’t matter to him, Harry,” Niall said in a very final tone, urging Harry to take another puff. He finished his statement with a firm pinch to Harry’s nipple, and Harry huffed the thick smoke into Niall’s face.

“Well, how cute are you two?” Liam said with his phone out, standing behind the couch. He snapped a picture and smiled down at it, looking like a proud mother. “This looks productive.”

“Li, tell Niall to clean himself up,” Harry whined, squirming. Niall grinned, popped the joint between Harry’s pouted lips, kissed his cheek, and got off of him.

“ _You_ clean _yourself_ up, H,” Liam said with a chuckle, earning a “Ha!” from Niall. Liam walked over and gathered the clothes that had fallen from Harry’s arms in his tumble. “I’ll do some more tidying, then when you’re set you can get started with supper.”

“Thanks, Lima!” Harry said, hopping up and wrapping himself around his brother as the other man grimaced at the nickname. He’d always complained that it made him feel like he was being compared to a bean, which only made Harry want to use it even more. “You’re the best! My favourite brother, you are!”

“I’m your only brother, you menace,” Liam laughed, taking the joint from Harry’s mouth and putting out in the ashtray beside the couch. “Now stop smoking. You reek. Does Louis know you’re a pothead?”

“ ‘M not a pothead!” Harry protested, ignoring the way that both Liam and Niall gave him knowing looks. “I’m gonna go shower now. Love you.” He gave Liam another hug for good measure.

“Go, you sappy motherfucker,” Liam said through a laugh, pushing Harry off of him.

Harry took a quick shower in what quickly became freezing cold water, because someone (probably himself, it might have been his month to take care of the payments) had forgotten to pay the water bill. Shivering violently, he changed into tight black jeans with rips at the knees that he’d borrowed from Zayn, along with one of Niall’s nicer sweatshirts that he stole from the boy’s room because Harry hadn’t done his laundry in too long. His laundry basket was surrounded in a strong-smelling cloud of marijuana fumes. Harry should probably get to that soon.

When he came out of his room, which was only slightly bigger than a closet and only had space for a single bed, a bedside table-slash-dresser, and a clothes rack, the apartment was impressively tidy. The floor was clear of random items of clothing and food, surfaces were decluttered, and Liam had obviously sprayed something because it didn’t smell so strongly of weed anymore.

“I fucking love you, man,” Harry gushed, hugging Liam from behind when he found the man doing dishes.

“Love you too, H. What’s for supper?”

“Hmm, pasta, I think. It’s easy to make and I know Louis likes spaghetti.”

“I’m all for it,” Liam said, drying his hands off after draining the sink. “Can make lots of it too. You know Niall will pig out, and isn’t Zayn coming too?”

“Yeah, I invited him. He knows Lou, though, so if he comes then he’s coming for the food.”

“Tattoos?”

Harry nodded, taking out a pot to start making the tomato sauce.

Zayn was their other friend, a tattoo artist who got them great discounts. He was also the one who lent Harry nice clothes for whenever he would go out with Louis and his ratty t-shirts or scrappy jeans just wouldn’t cut it. At this point, Harry was almost positive that Zayn had collected a drawer of so-called ‘Harry clothes’, as the shirts he’d been lending to Harry lately were flimsy, patterned things that Harry knew Zayn would never wear, but that Zayn knew Harry would love. Harry refused to accept free clothes, though, so he pushed that to the back of his mind and continued to tell himself he was just borrowing some of Zayn’s stuff.

The afternoon was spent in the kitchen, both tidying and cooking. Liam did laundry (including Harry’s, thank god!) while Harry forced Niall to chop vegetables. Having something like supper to focus on was doing wonders for Harry’s mind. He didn’t even think about why he was trying so hard until Louis texted him at 5:00 on the dot.

“He’s downstairs. Fuck.”

“None of that,” Liam tutted as Harry walked out into the living room, staring at his phone. “Go down and bring him in.”

Harry took a deep breath. “Okay. Behave,” he told both of them, pointing a stern finger. “If the apartment doesn’t scare him off, you two will.”

“We’re not that scary,” Niall protested, finishing off a beer and crushing the can in his fist.

“Liam, make sure that ends up in the recycling,” Harry begged, backing towards the door.

“Your boyfriend’s waiting on you, H, just go,” Liam said calmly, catching the crushed can that Niall tossed at him.

Harry turned, nodding to himself, and walked out the apartment door, taking the two flights of stairs very quickly, ending up at the front entrance.

Louis was there, just inside the swinging glass doors, looking severely out of place in the shabby hallway in his fitted jeans and nice black hoodie that Harry knew was some expensive brand. Louis got gifts, was the thing, and he always looked so nice and put together when he wore the nice clothes he was given.

“Hey, Harry,” Louis greeted as Harry went right over to him. He looked unfazed so far, which was very comforting to Harry. “Hi, Lou,” Harry said as Louis held open his arms. Harry slouched into them, nuzzling into his neck. Forget an apartment or a bungalow, Harry would be happy just living right there in Louis’ hold.

Harry pulled back a bit and pressed his lips to Louis’, craving a taste after the stress of the day. Louis ran a gentle hand up Harry’s back to cup behind his neck. “You’re tense, babe.”

“ ‘M nervous,” Harry admitted, hiding in Louis’ neck again. He smelled as good as always. He wore an expensive Chanel cologne, Harry knew, and it was the best-smelling product Harry had ever gotten to inhale. The bottle was nice, as well; Louis kept it on his dresser.

“Don’t be. It’ll be fine, Harry. I told you I don’t care if your place is crappy, didn’t I?”

“I know. I just—” He cut himself off with a sigh, not ready to talk about it but simultaneously dreading what was to come. He stepped away and grabbed Louis’ hand, deciding that they’d better just get it over with. Louis immediately intertwined their fingers. “Let’s go up, I guess.”

Harry led Louis over to the stairs. They creaked much too loudly under their feet, and Harry noticed more than ever before just how dingy the stairwell was. The lights flickered and there was a good layer of dirt and dust on the surface of the landing before the second flight.

“There’s no working elevator. Sorry.”

“I didn’t get to the gym today, actually. I needed a workout anyway.”

Harry shook his head with a smile and pressed his cheek to Louis’ shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

“No, you,” Louis joked, kissing the top of his head and squeezing their clasped hands. “It’s going to be fine, love.”

“Well, this is it,” Harry said when they got to number 15. The paint looked super chipped, as always, and the 5 was extremely tarnished.

“Let’s go in, then,” Louis said, knocking his hip gently against Harry’s.

“Okay,” Harry whispered. He reached out and twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, cringing at the loud creaking that it made. Louis, ever attentive and oh-so-supportive, kissed his cheek.

“You know, my bathroom door creaks just like that,” Louis commented quietly.

Harry knew it was a way of placating him, and that none of Louis’ three (three!) bathroom doors creaked, but he appreciated the sentiment.

Harry tugged Louis into the apartment, shutting the door behind them. Harry was just in his socks, but he waited while Louis courteously slipped off his shoes. Didn’t matter, though. Their floors were worse off inside the apartment than in the stairwell. Especially the carpets.

“The guys are just in here,” Harry said, leading Louis in. Louis set his hands on Harry’s hips as he followed close behind him, and they turned the corner into the living room.

Niall was sprawled on the couch, one leg over the back of it and the other on the floor, while Liam had perched himself on the arm, the only available space left on the ratty piece of furniture. At least Niall’s body blocked Louis’ view of the disgusting cushions. When Liam saw them, he nudged Niall with his knee, making him scramble to sit up properly.

“Guys, this is Louis,” Harry said, gesturing behind him at his boyfriend. Both of them knew exactly who Louis was. “This is Liam, my older brother,” Harry continued, pointing at Liam and speaking to Louis now.

Louis walked around Harry and held out his hand for Liam to shake, which Harry’s brother easily did. “Hey, Liam, nice to meet you.”

Louis was naturally overly kind, but him going out of his way to shake Liam’s hand, greet him directly, warmed Harry’s heart. Louis really didn’t need to impress Liam. Liam had heard enough from Harry about his boyfriend that he was confident Harry was in good hands, even though Harry knew he could be annoying about it. Liam indulged him, though, which was further proof that Liam approved.

“And that’s Niall,” Harry said, pointing at the boy on the couch. Louis shook Niall’s hand too, greeting him warmly like he greeted Liam.

“Smells amazing in here,” Louis commented, retreating to stand next to Harry again and placing a hand on his lower back, playing with the hem of his sweatshirt.

“That’s the spaghetti,” Liam said, standing up and taking a couple steps towards the kitchen. “Has Harry cooked for you yet, Louis?”

“Oh, yes,” Louis gushed, squeezing Harry’s waist. “He’s made us some great meals. He’s also a great baker.”

“That he is,” Niall agreed, Niall would eat literally anything, but Harry appreciated the compliment.

“I should go finish up the pasta,” Harry said, turning to Louis, “You okay out here with Niall?”

“ ‘Course, babe,” Louis said, pecking Louis’ lips. Then he sat down on the couch without a disgusted glance at the grimy thing, not even concerned about ruining his nice pants. Pants that cost more than the entire apartment, probably. He leaned back, no hesitation, and immediately engaged in conversation with Niall.

Damn, Harry was in love.

Harry was already in the kitchen (it was about three steps from the couch; it was basically just an extension of the living room, so it didn’t take long) when he realized what he’d just said in his mind. He was in love. He knew that he and Louis were on their way there; they’d become inseparable and incredibly attuned to each other. He knew he wanted to be there. But he’d never admitted it to himself. He loved Louis Tomlinson.

Harry faltered in the doorway for a second, causing Liam to look at his strangely. “He’s nice, H. I like him.”

Liam was halfway in the fridge, speaking quietly because the other two weren’t far and the TV wasn’t very loud. Harry tried to remember to breathe for a second before scurrying over to Liam, who stepped back from the fridge. Harry reached a hand out and shut it, and it slammed a little harder than he’d intended it to.

“…Harry?”

“I love him,” Harry hissed, and he was sweating, and he sort of wanted to cry. It was so overwhelming, and Louis was here, in Harry’s shitty apartment, sitting on his shitty couch and talking animatedly with his best friend. Harry could hear them. Louis and Niall were getting along perfectly, and it only made Harry fall faster and harder. He didn’t think he’d ever stop.

“H, that’s great!” Liam whispered, grabbing Harry’s wrist and completely missing the point. “He seems great to me!”

“No, Liam, like, I’m in love with him. Like suddenly I can see a future, fucking…marriage! And,” he gripped Liam’s wrist, which was still holding onto his own. “Li, this is terrifying. Why do I suddenly want three children?! Louis would be such a great father!”

“Okay. Harry.” Liam laughed a little nervously, pushing Harry to lean against the closed fridge. “Maybe start with a cat?”

“Liam!” Harry felt like hyperventilating. He suddenly wanted _everything_ with Louis. It was daunting, to be quite honest.

“Okay,” Liam tried again. “Maybe you should talk to Louis?” At the fear in Harry’s eyes as he rapidly shook his head, Liam backtracked. “Alright, not ready for that yet! Then I’m going to have you set the table.”

“Okay,” Harry whispered. He tried to shake off his thoughts and numbly opened a couple of cupboards to gather some clean dishes. He found a distracting activity in choosing a plate for each dinner guest. He gave himself his usual, the weird frog printed one, along with Niall’s _World’s #1 Teacher_ , and Liam got the one that was shaped like, well, none of them knew what. It sort of looked like a flattened lump, and it was bright, neon orange. Harry set out the ugly mustard yellow coloured plate for Zayn, and for Louis, he chose the cute smiley face that had _x_ ’s as eyes. That one had never been assigned to anyone before, so Harry decided right then that it was going to be Louis’.

He didn’t realize he was shaking until Liam wrapped an arm around his shoulders. His brother pressed a lit joint to his lips and Harry took a desperate puff. So maybe he was a bit of a pothead. Weed calmed him down, though, both he and Liam knew that.

“Chill out, H,” Liam whispered, waving the smoke away. “You’re fine. You just need to talk to him. You know it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know that,” Harry said, stealing another puff before Liam deliberately put the joint out. “What if he wants different things than me?”

“So you get a dog instead of a cat!”

Harry stared at him, panicking. Harry definitely wanted at least one of each.

Liam sighed. “Look, Harry, no decisions need to be made right now. You and Louis obviously need to talk, but we’re going to have supper and you’re going to calm the fuck down first.”

Harry took a couple of deep breaths, nodding shakily. “Okay.” He turned back to the table. “Okay, we need cups.”

The rest of table setup was a little hazy, probably because Harry was going on an empty stomach, and they only bought and smoked the good stuff. Liam made him drink a cup of water to sober up before supper, and Harry remembered then that Louis was over, and he was high. Barely, but it was something.

Louis knew Harry smoked. Maybe he didn’t know exactly to what extent, but he was aware and it didn’t bother him. Louis was very open about his experimenting during his teenage years, but he didn’t really do it anymore. He had an actual career now. Harry, on the other hand, out of his teenage years and unemployed, was drunk or high pretty much any time he wasn’t with Louis. Niall was a great drinking buddy, and both of them had quite open schedules. It was pretty sad, but it worked for them right now.

Louis was in the other room, though, and he was here to meet Harry’s roommates and visit their home. Harry was doing a shit job as a host.

“Smells great in here!” a voice called from the doorway.

“Hey, Zayn!” Niall called. Harry watched him jump up to greet him.

“I think we’re set,” Liam said, patting Harry’s back. “You good, bro?”

Harry nodded. “Do I smell?”

“It’s not noticeable. You barely touched it.”

“Okay,” Harry breathed, but Liam was already slipping out of the kitchen.

“Just in time for supper, Malik,” Liam called, and he flicked Niall with the end of the towel he was holding. “Come sit down, you lot.”

Louis got up from the couch and greeted Zayn, who smiled and clapped him on the back.

“Ooh, gross yellow plate for me again?” Zayn asked, walking into the kitchen and ruffling Harry’s hair. “This is my favourite plate,” he added sincerely.

“Glad you like it,” Harry said. He slid a hand up Louis’ back and pushed him towards the smiley plate. Liam and Niall knew their plates, and Harry was naturally left with the frog plate.

“Love the plate selection, guys,” Louis said with a laugh. He was looking at the mismatched table setting with nothing but amused curiosity. No disgust, no judgement, and he was really making it difficult for Harry’s poor heart.

“Harry likes thrift shopping,” Liam explained, bringing the pot of spaghetti over to the table and motioning for everyone to dig in. “There’s always weird shit there for no cost at all. None of our silverware matches either.”

“I think it’s very unique,” Louis said, gripping Harry’s hand under the table. “Good shopping, baby.”

“Sickening, the two of you,” Niall groaned, but his look was fond. “This spaghetti, though. Fucking delicious.”

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled, blushing at the praise and smiling as Louis filled both of their plates and set Harry’s in front of him.

“So, Louis, you’re a producer, right?” Liam asked, pouring himself some water.

“I am,” Louis said with a nod as he twirled some noodles around his fork. “Yep, I work with a few artists here in LA and in New York, too. Never actually been to New York, yet, but my company has a building over there, so I do some long-distance work.”

“Anyone we’ve heard of?” Niall asked, shovelling food into his mouth and taking a swig of a newly opened beer right after. Harry grimaced.

“I mean, I’ve done a bit of work with Ed Sheeran and Kacey Musgraves. I mostly work with younger artists who are just starting out, though. Get their name out there with a really good debut single and album.”

Louis talked so calmly and sincerely about his job. It wasn’t just work to him; it was his passion. Harry admired his love for music and upcoming artists. Louis really had an eye for talent.

“That’s sick!” Niall said. “Do you get free concert tickets?”

Louis smiled into his glass of water. “Yeah, all the time.”

Niall’s jaw dropped. “Well, shit. You’re literally dating a keeper, H,” he said, poking Harry’s cheek.

“Shut up, Ni,” Harry said, but he grinned at Louis, agreeing with Niall through his eyes and hoping Louis understood.

Louis had taken Harry to one concert, they’d gotten a VIP box and everything, but they’d made out the whole time. Louis had skipped his backstage duties after the show to take Harry back to his house. Harry really wasn’t with him to meet celebrities.

Conversation dwindled while everyone ate their first servings of dinner. Louis’ thigh was warm against Harry’s as they ate.

“God, that was good,” Zayn said, leaning back and rubbing his stomach. “I need to come over for supper more often.”

“How do you know Louis, Zayn?” Liam asked, helping himself to more pasta.

“Well,” Zayn said, leaning his elbows on the table. Back before Lou here was a hotshot producer, he was a personal assistant for a teen heartthrob.”

“Wait, really?” Harry asked, as Niall gasped and asked, “Who?”

Louis snorted. “For like, a week, and you wouldn’t know him, he was out of the news pretty fast. I thought that was what I wanted to do, but it ended up being all damage control. Chasing around a crazy rich kid with too much money and fame. I quit really early on.”

“Well, during that one week, Louis escorted the kid to my tattoo parlour. That’s when we met.”

“I quit right after the kid got his tattoo,” Louis said with a chuckle.

“He got something stupid, didn’t he?” Zayn asked. “I’m pretty sure it was a camera with ‘fuck the paps’ underneath.”

“Oh my god, yeah,” Louis said, letting out a loud laugh. “Shit, forgot about that. Wonder where that kid is now.” He absently rubbed his wrist where his sleeve was pushed up on his forearm, touching the ink there. “I booked myself in for a tattoo when the kid left with security. Been going to Zayn ever since.” He looked around at the rest of them. “And how did you all meet?”

“Zayn and Liam are childhood besties,” Niall said. “Harry and I are childhood besties. The four of us pretty much grew up together.” Niall gestured between each pair as he described the relationships.

“Li’s friendship with Zayn got me addicted to tattoos, I think,” Harry said, smiling at the tattoo artist.

“Oh, it was all Zayn’s fault in my case,” Louis said with a laugh, and Zayn scoffed. Louis looked between Harry and Niall. “Childhood besties, huh?” Louis had finished eating and had shuffled his chair closer to Harry’s, his hand coming up to caress the back of his neck and play with the curls there. Harry was having a hard time refraining purring and melting into a content puddle against his boyfriend.

“Oh, yeah. Inseparable, the two of them,” Liam huffed. “Actually, I took an adorable picture of the two of them just earlier.”

“Liam,” Harry warned. Liam smirked and brought out his phone, pulling up the photo and showing it to Louis, who immediately grabbed it.

“What is even going on?” Louis asked with a laugh. Harry groaned and leaned over, pressing his blushing face against Louis’ shoulder. In the picture, Harry saw himself sprawled out like a starfish in only his tight black briefs, tattoos a harsh black and on full display. Niall was pinning his shoulders down, pinching his bare nipple as a puff of smoke was frozen in the air, above Harry’s mouth. Niall had a wide-ass smile on his face as he grinned down at Harry, who was grimacing.

“Niall was being an ass while I was trying to clean,” Harry said as Louis passed the picture over to Zayn and Niall, who both burst out laughing.

“Harry was getting in my way, he was just asking to be attacked,” Niall defended. Liam laughed as he stood, beginning to tidy up the table.

“You pinched my nipple!” Harry exclaimed, standing up. Everyone laughed, and Harry pouted even though he knew he was being childish. He felt a little bit scrambled, to be honest. Especially because Louis had jumped up to help Liam clear the dishes without a second thought, and Harry admired his willingness to pitch in, even though he should not be cleaning up tonight.

“Niall and I will get the dishes,” Liam said, knocking Louis’ hands away from the pot and thankfully sharing Harry’s thoughts.

“I’ll help,” Zayn said as Niall immediately voiced his complaints, complete with some half-assed excuses to why he could not help.

“Sweet.” Liam flicked Harry with his towel as he started running the water in the sink. “Take your boyfriend for a tour. Don’t worry about us.” When Harry looked around at him, Liam mouthed _talk to him_ with a stern raise of his eyebrow.

Harry sighed as he nudged Louis out of the kitchen and all of his nerves returned in full force.

“I guess you haven’t seen the rest of the place,” Harry said, looking over at Louis who was watching him expectantly. “Not that there’s much left to see.”

“Hey,” Louis said softly. “I’m having a great time, Harry, stop putting yourself and your apartment down.”

Harry shrugged with a sigh. “I guess we can go see my room.”

“I’d love to see your room.”

Harry grabbed Louis’ hand, tugging him down the hall to the last room on the right. He lifted the door from where it was propped in the frame, moving it out of the opening. “Hinges broke and none of us really care enough to fix it,” he explained, motioning for Louis to step inside. Louis looked around, taking in the limited floor space and the makeshift closet-slash coatrack. Harry stayed standing in the doorway. “It’s actually a closet,” Harry explained self-consciously. “Or, like, probably supposed to be a laundry room or something. Since I’m the youngest and I was the last one to move in, I got the room that isn’t actually a room.”

“Harry,” Louis sighed, taking a step back over to the doorway to run his hands over Harry’s shoulders and around to the back of his neck. He rubbed at Harry’s jaw gently with his thumbs. “Stop it. Have I said anything to make you believe I judge you for where you live? Why do you feel like you have to make up for it all?”

Harry bit his lip, avoiding Louis’ concerned gaze. Louis’ thumb pulled at the pinched skin, soothing it with a gentle swipe. Harry’s emotions were kind of all over the place and he found that he just wanted to talk to Louis. “I’m—I just know what you have. And that I have nothing close to that. And I just feel like this place is proof of how little I have going for myself?” Harry let himself be tugged over to the bed, Louis sitting him down and settling right beside him, facing him, and putting his hands on Harry’s knees. “Like, I know you worked really hard for all you have. And it shows. And you can just tell by this shit place that I do nothing, so I feel like I have to explain myself."

Louis shook his head, looking sad and sincere. “You don’t have to, H,” Louis assured him. “Not at all. Yes, I’ve worked for what I have. But that took time and it didn’t happen until I found what I love to do. You’re still young, and you’re figuring stuff out. You’re allowed a few years of roughing it.” Louis smiled, looking around the room, eyes lingering on the random magazine posters and records tacked to the walls. “Harry, I really think that this apartment has character. It’s unique, like you, and I don’t care how shitty it is. It’s part of you, and I like it here. I can promise you that I plan to be over often, if you’ll have me.”

Harry looked up and caught Louis’ earnest blue eyes, letting out a shocked, surprised laugh. “God, Lou,” he sighed. He reached out for Louis’ shoulders and pushed him backwards, climbing on top of him before his head even fell back against the pillows. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Louis’, breathing him in and leaning over him on his elbows. “I love you.”

They kissed for a couple more seconds before Louis brought his hands to the sides of Harry’s face, pulling his lips away in order to look at him. His eyes scanned his face and he was biting back a smile. “What did you say?”

Harry didn’t even consider denying it. He nuzzled into Louis’ hold, closing his eyes. He squeaked when Louis flipped them over, so he was pinning Harry down now, and he pressed their lips together firmly. Harry tilted his head to the side as Louis started trailing soft pecks down the side of his face, working towards his ear. There, directly in his ear, he whispered, “I love you, too.”

Harry smiled, running his hands up Louis’ back, under his shirt. He made an embarrassing noise in the back of his throat as Louis’ mouth moved over his neck, sucking a bite right above his collarbone. Harry felt his smile against his skin.

Harry pulled at Louis’ sweater, trying to bring it up, over his head. Louis chuckled and pulled away, sitting up to pull it off. Harry nuzzled his face into his pillow, looking up at Louis, who he _loved_ , and who loved him _back_ (!). Louis was really beautiful, all golden skin and delicate tattoos. Harry reached up to trace the ink at his collarbones, feeling a soft smile creep onto his face.

“I’m gonna close the door,” Louis said softly, running a hand under the thin material of Harry’s borrowed sweatshirt. “Get these off,” he added as he popped Harry’s jeans button open.

Harry got to that, watching as Louis got up, unzipping his pants and pulling the unhinged door in front of the frame. Harry huffed a laugh as he kicked his jeans to the floor, sitting up to pull off his shirt. “Not gonna keep anyone out of here.”

“Hey, come on now, I love this door,” Louis said with a grin. “I won’t have you putting it down anymore.”

“Okay,” Harry said, laying back against the pillows in just his underwear. “Sorry. I love you.” Harry felt like he had to say it a few more times, just because he _could_. Louis smiled widely, eyes crinkling, as he dropped his pants and kneed onto the bed.

“And I love you,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss Harry tenderly before running his hands down his waist and grabbing the elastic of his briefs. Harry lifted his hips so Louis could slide them under his ass, down his legs, and they both laughed breathlessly as they got caught on Harry’s ankles. Harry’s legs fell open and Louis immediately slotted himself between them, tossing the underwear to the side. He leaned down to press a firm kiss to Harry’s smiling lips, running a warm hand up his chest. Louis’ clothed bulge rubbed up against Harry’s naked one, causing Harry to groan hoarsely right into Louis’ mouth.

“Are we really having sex with your brother in the next room?” Louis asked, voice amused as he gazed down at Harry. Harry felt lost in Louis’ eyes as they stared right into his soul, and he couldn’t care less who was in the next room.

“Yeah,” he breathed, playing with the waistband of Louis’ briefs. “He doesn’t care. We hear Niall having sex all the time, Liam’s used to it.”

“That’s not exactly the same,” Louis said, laughing but also holding back a groan as Harry leaned up to suck a mark under his jaw. “It’s your brother.”

“Let’s not talk about him,” Harry said against Louis’ sweet-smelling skin, arching his back as Louis ground his hips gently against Harry. “Let’s talk about our mutual love of each other.”

Louis hummed in agreement, leaning down on one elbow that was planted right next to Harry’s shoulder. He captured Harry’s lips with his, licking the seam of them, while his other hand ran up his right thigh and found his hole, pressing against it with a dry finger. A high-pitched whine came from Harry’s throat, and he squirmed under Louis. “Lube, my love?”

Harry felt a rush of arousal at the term of endearment, a pet name that held so much meaning to him. “Top—top left drawer,” he forced out, arm flopping uselessly on the bed as a half-assed gesture. Louis pressed a kiss to Harry’s damp temple before leaning over him to reach for the beside table that was wedged between the bed and the wall, which also doubled as a desk and a dresser. He opened the drawer and dug out the half-empty bottle of lube with minimal difficulty as Harry admired the smooth expanse of Louis’ torso. Louis shut the drawer and leaned back on his heels, perched between Harry’s spread legs.

Harry focused on Louis’ face as the older man smiled down at him, full of clear adoration that made Harry flush and his dick twitched where he laid bare and exposed for him. “You’re so beautiful,” Louis whispered, grin spreading on his face. “I love you so much.”

Harry felt like squealing in joy. “God, I love you too.” He made grabby hands because Louis was too far away. “Come back, though, please.”

“Hmm, how polite,” Louis said. He popped open the lube bottle and squeezed some onto his fingers as Harry rubbed his ankle against his man’s thigh.

Louis leaned back over Harry’s body as his wet fingers rubbed over Harry’s hole; he licked into Harry’s mouth as the first finger slid in to the knuckle. Harry was in pure bliss as Louis fingered him open, quickly moving to two then three fingers while Harry mouthed wetly at his neck.

“ ‘M ready, Lou,” Harry insisted, straining down to find Louis’ cock but finding damp material instead. He frowned down at the offending article of clothing. “Lou, get naked.”

Louis laughed, quickly getting himself out of his briefs and settling back in his position. Harry reached down again to wrap his fingers around Louis’ dick, stroking him gently. He thumbed the pre-cum that was leaking from the tip and spread it down the shaft. Louis groaned, obviously holding back a full-on moan, and Harry pulled his head down to kiss him firmly. He pulled back only to concentrate on guiding Louis’ cock into his hole.

It was a pleasant stretch around Louis’ thick girth, slicked up only by his own pre-cum, but that was how Harry liked it best. He liked to feel Louis as he went in, forcing his way to the hilt, only to create the best friction as he began to thrust into the space that he’d made in Harry’s body. Harry full on moaned when Louis pushed in harder, hole still trying to stretch around him, and Louis quickly kissed him to shut him up.

“Shh, baby, oh my god,” Louis hissed, but he was giggling, and Harry had to laugh too, though it was strained because Louis was still moving. “Your own _brother_ is _so_ close by.”

“Don’t care,” Harry panted, wrapping his legs around Louis’ waist, heels pressing into his ass, and pulling him impossibly deeper. He whiled at the sensation, and Louis sighed, but he kept going.

Louis picked up the pace, reaching between them to grab at Harry’s neglected cock, and stroking him in time with his thrusts. Harry got louder, and he knew that Louis usually loved to hear him during sex, but Harry knew this was making him nervous. They usually had a whole house to themselves; Harry never had to watch his volume. Harry found the edge of his pillow and bit down on it to muffle himself slightly. Louis let out a moan above him at the sight and went faster, pulling Harry off simultaneously.

“Gonna—gonna cum, baby. You gonna cum with me?”

Harry nodded, whining high in his throat and drooling around the fabric of his pillowcase. It was building in his groin as Louis kept thrusting, but Louis came first inside of Harry with Harry following just a second later, all up his chest. Louis rolled his hips one final time before leaning down on his elbows, pressing a tender kiss to Harry’s slack lips.

“I love you,” Harry said weakly.

“I fucking love you,” Louis replied, gently pulling out of Harry before rolling onto his side right beside him. Louis ran his fingers through the cum on Harry’s heaving torso as they both caught their breath. “That was not the first impression I had in mind when it came to meeting your brother,” Louis said into Harry’s curls.

Harry couldn’t care less about what his brother would say about this. “He loves you already, Lou. Before he even met you. He loves you because he knows I love you.”

"He knows you love me?” Louis asked sweetly.

“He knew before you knew. I was freaking out in the kitchen when you were with Niall, before supper,” Harry explained sheepishly.

“Oh, baby,” Louis said, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “You’re so cute. I love you.”

“That makes me really fucking happy,” Harry sighed contentedly, turning his head and kissing Louis deeply, pulling him in closer by the hip.

Harry ended up being right, in the end, about Liam. He was used to it, (the sex sound effects), and he still loved Louis regardless of the obvious sexual activities that they had just engaged in under the same roof. Liam grinned at them when they came out of Harry’s room, and it was only slightly uncomfortable for a second, but he handed Louis a beer with a warm smile and patted the seat beside him, and everything was fine.

Harry was so happy, and he didn’t hate his apartment at all when he saw it from his spot on his boyfriend’s lap, on the gross, stained couch. It was a place with character, of course, like Louis said, but it was also the place where their love was shared in Harry’s shoebox of a room. Harry hadn’t wanted to let Louis into this place before, but now Harry found that he didn’t want Louis to leave.


End file.
